No Holding Back

by Lori Foster

  “Just keep it down,” she barked, then slammed her door loudly enough to wake up the rest of the building.

  Cade gave serious thought to breaking into Star’s apartment. If she wasn’t in there, he’d start scouring the area to find her—

  “Who is it?” Her weak voice came through the closed door.

  Fresh alarm mingled with relief, because at least he’d found her...unless she wasn’t alone?

  His gaze shot up to the peek hole in the door. Stepping back so she could see him, he said, “It’s Cade. Let me in.”

  Nothing happened.

  He leaned closer to the door. “Swear to God, Star, I’m about two seconds from knocking down the—”

  The lock clicked and the door opened.

  One look at her and uncontrollable rage returned. That was something that never happened to him. He worked best in cold deliberation, detached, proficient...but this was Star, and somehow she’d always jacked his control.

  Stepping in and quietly securing the door again, he asked, “Who did this to you?” She looked like she’d been through a war.

  With a pronounced limp, her face taut with pain, she went back to the couch and gingerly lowered herself. Instead of answering his question, she asked one of her own. “Why are you here?”

  Several lights were on in the apartment. “Are you alone?”

  She sat back. “Yes.” Her robe parted and he saw her right leg.

  Locking his jaw, he came to kneel in front of her. “Ah, babe, how the hell did this happen?”

  Trembling, she swallowed heavily and closed her eyes. “Babe?”

  Seriously, an endearment was what she wanted to talk about now? “You can gut me later. Tell me what happened.”

  Though she didn’t actually shrug, he heard it in her tone. “I landed hard when I went out the window in the guys’ john. I’m okay, though.”

  No, she most definitely was not. The bruising started dark red at the top of her thigh and down the middle, but then spread outward to blue, green and black. Actually, he couldn’t see how high it went because the robe didn’t part any higher. He lightly touched his fingers to her skin, especially over the bandages that covered a blood-encrusted cut.

  Lethargic, Sterling said, “It looks terrible, doesn’t it?”

  He’d seen similar bruising, just never on a woman. “My guess is a pulled hammy. I don’t know how you managed to get home.”

  “Adrenaline, I think. Not getting home wasn’t an option, right? But yeah, now it hurts like crazy.”

  He noticed she held her arm, too—which drew his gaze to her fingers. Shit. He winced for her, but first things first. Gesturing at her leg, he asked, “Mind if I take a look?”

  Those velvety brown eyes of hers stared at him. “Actually, since I’m buck-ass under the robe, yeah, I mind.”

  He hadn’t needed her confirmation on that. His body already knew it, and conflicting needs were bombarding him. He wanted to help her. Protect her. Touch her.

  Look at her.

  Stop being an asshole. He drew in a deep breath and tried to be businesslike. “You need to see a doctor.”

  “Nope. If that’s why you came here, you can run along back to wherever you live.”

  “Star.” He braced his hand on the couch. “You can’t think I’d leave you like this.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why not? I’m not your babe, and I didn’t ask you to—”

  “Let me rephrase that.” He hardened his own gaze. “I’m not leaving you like this.”

  They stared at each other, a battle of wills, until she relented with ill grace. Hell, she looked too spent to do otherwise.

  “Fine,” she groused. “Suit yourself. Not sure I could fend off anyone if you led them here, so if nothing else, you can be backup.”

  “I didn’t, but in case you did, you’re right. I make excellent backup.” Now with a purpose, Cade stood. “We’re going to handle this step by step, okay? First, have you taken anything?”

  Eyes closed, body tight with pain, she asked, “Like...?”

  “Pain meds? And you should have that leg elevated, under ice packs, or you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

  She gave a short laugh. “Walk? I’m not sure I could crawl.” She lifted her head, and her eyes barely opened. “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but just showering took it out of me. All I want to do now is sleep.”

  His heart softened. “You can do that soon, okay? After I get you more comfortable. So you need something for pain.”

  “I have aspirin in my medicine cabinet.”

  “And a first aid kit, apparently.” She hadn’t done a terrible job, but he could do better. “I’ll properly clean and dress that cut, too. You know how you did it?”

  “Chunk of glass.” Again she put her head back as if any effort at being alert was too much. “It’s in or near the trash can in my bathroom.”

  To know what he was dealing with, Cade went to retrieve it. Discarded clothes littered the floor, including bloodied jeans and her boots. She’d left a knife and a necklace on the counter. No, not a necklace. Though he recognized it as a hidden weapon, it took him a second to figure it out. With the press of a small mechanism built into the medallion, a claw blade opened out.

  Jesus, what had she planned? Just how deep was she into her vigilante crusade?

  Worrying about that would have to wait until he’d seen to her injuries. He found the chunk of glass. It appeared to be part of a broken bottle, still covered in Sterling’s blood. In fact, she’d gotten blood everywhere—the floor, the tub, the edge of the sink...

  The first aid kit was left open on the counter. Since the rest of her apartment was tidy, he’d pick up the mess for her once he had her better settled.

  Next he detoured into the kitchen to find a bottle of water. Her fridge was almost barren, her cabinets cluttered with packaged food but nothing healthy. Figuring out something for her to eat would take a trick.

  When he returned with the kit, three store-brand pain tablets and the water, she appeared to be sleeping. “Star?” he asked quietly.

  “Hmm?” She sounded lethargic.

  “Can you take these?” He touched her lips, and that got her more alert, her dark eyes watchful. He badly wanted to kiss that soft mouth, but all he said was, “Open.”

  She did, and he dropped them in, then handed her the water.

  After swallowing the pills, she took several more drinks until she’d downed half the bottle. “No one’s ever taken care of me.”

  No one? Ever? “Then let me show you how it’s done.”

  Contemplative, she frowned at him, then gave up. “Fine. I’m starving, too. I don’t suppose you know how to cook?”

  “Better than you, apparently.” He knelt down again and gently peeled away the butterfly bandages that had helped, but not enough. With the condition of her leg, it had to hurt like crazy.

  “I didn’t sleep at all last night,” she explained, a mixture of pain and running the words together. “I haven’t eaten since early this morning, either. Add in tonight’s...excitement, and yeah, I’m shot.”

  “Excitement. Right.” Cade let that slide to silently concentrate on the job at hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, dampening a cotton ball in antiseptic. “This is going to sting.”

  “I know.” She clutched the couch cushion with her left hand. “Go ahead.”

  Her breath hissed out as he worked, so he tried to distract her. “Do you often go all day without eating?”

  “Do I look like I’m starving?”

  Definitely not. Sterling had a strong and shapely body that had caught his attention the moment he first saw her. Broad shoulders for a woman, hefty breasts and an ass he wanted to grasp with both hands. She didn’t play up her assets in any way, and Cade thought she was sexy as hell because of it.

 
“So you skipped food out of nervousness?”

  “I don’t get nervous,” she denied—then caught her breath as he cleaned a spot of debris from the edge of the cut.

  “So why didn’t you eat?”

  “I was busy prepping.” She scowled at him. “Are you about done?”

  He’d take her annoyance over the sight of her pain any day. “Almost. You could really use a few stitches, but since the bleeding has almost stopped, we’ll stick with bandages.” The robe barely preserved her modesty, not that she seemed concerned. The woman was utterly unaffected by his nearness and her own nakedness—or else she hid it well.

  Whichever, he appreciated how well she handled it. Any show of shyness now would have made it that much more difficult.

  When he finished, he lightly covered her again with the edges of the robe. “Now.” He sat beside her.

  Making it clear she didn’t like his nearness, she gave him another scowl.

  “That finger is dislocated.” She’d either need a trip to the ER after all...or he’d need to set it for her.

  Looking away from her injured hand, she whispered, “I know.”

  Very gently, Cade took her hand, then trailed his fingertips over the swollen knuckle. “Does anything else on this arm hurt? Your wrist, elbow?” She was guarding it pretty good.

  Lips pressed together, she shook her head.

  “Are you sure?” He held her wrist firmly in one hand, the dislocated finger in the other. “Have you tried moving it?”

  “Yes. I was reaching for the faucet when—Ngahhh!”

  Before she could finish, he’d tugged the finger back into place and now gently held her hand in his, trying to soothe her. “Shh, I know. It’s damn painful. Take some deep breaths.”

  “Go to hell!” she snapped, but she curled closer to him and moaned.

  Cade had trouble swallowing. He’d set fingers before, his own included, but this was different. One arm around her, his other hand still holding hers, he kept her close. “I’m sorry, babe.”

  Her breath shuddered in. “Don’t be.” Still a little shaky, she said, “You fixed it for me.”

  “You should really see a doctor—”

  She inhaled deeply, let it out slowly and eased away from him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  The stubbornness started to grate on him. “Does anything else hurt?”

  Her choking laugh sounded with pain. “What doesn’t hurt? It was a stupid idea to go out that window.”

  Since he’d been there to get her out, Cade agreed. But she hadn’t known that. “I think it showed a lot of initiative.”

  She huffed a breath. “It was better than staying, I guess.”

  Before he could think better of it, he had his hand on her tangled hair, smoothing it down. “Can you tell me what you were doing there?”

  “You first.”

  He looked up in surprise. “So you knew it was me?”

  “I thought you might be around somewhere.”

  Talking seemed to help her collect herself, so Cade settled back beside her. “I was keeping an eye on you.” He could tell her that much. He wanted her to know...what? That he cared, yes. That whatever she was up to, he could handle it for her. “What did you hope to accomplish, Star?”

  Hand trembling, she swiped a tear off her lashes as if it offended her. “I was offered money, remember? What’s your excuse?”

  She had to be the most maddening person he’d ever encountered. “I can’t go into it.”

  “Yeah? Well, ditto for me. Guess we can both keep our little secrets, okay?”

  Cade tried a different tack. “You said you’re hungry. Let’s get the rest of the injuries looked at and then I’ll see what I can put together.”

  “You already covered it, and I can rustle up a bowl of cereal or something.”

  He doubted she could rustle herself to bed, but he refrained from saying so. “Nothing else hurts on your arm? Your shoulder, back?”

  “My back’s a little sore, but hey, I scraped my spine on the window casing, then damn near landed on my head and shoulders, so... Guess I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck.”

  The thought of that leveled him, made his heart thump and his lungs constrict. “Let me take a look.”

  Eyes narrowing, she curled a little away from him. “Don’t tell me you’re a doctor?”

  “No, but I have some field experience—”

  “Aha. Military.” Pouncing on that, she said with triumph, “I knew it.”

  “And since you refuse to get actual medical attention, at least let me see what I can do.” Seconds ticked by while she considered it.

  “Yeah, all right.” She struggled to sit up.

  Carefully, he helped lever her more upright.

  “I need panties,” she said. “And maybe a button-up shirt. Then you can do all the doctoring you want.”

  The timing was all wrong, yet he teased, “Promise?”

  “Get cute and you can get out.”

  Pleased to see her attitude back in full force, Cade murmured, “Sorry,” and helped her to her feet. “Can I help you dress?”

  “You might have to. It took all I had just to get my robe on.”

  He hadn’t expected her agreement, but he went along without a word, letting her lean on him as they made their way to her bedroom. Once there, she settled cautiously at the foot of the bed. “Panties are in the top middle drawer.”

  A new experience—helping a woman into her panties. Reyes would find it funny as fuck, but Cade was an eon away from humor.

  He opened the drawer to a jumble of colors and fabrics all stuffed in together. Most were cotton, some with lacy trim, others nylon or ultra-sheer. Such a selection. He glanced over his shoulder. “You have a preference on full coverage or barely there?”

  She smirked. “If by full coverage you mean granny panties, you won’t find any there. But nothing too skimpy, and preferably cotton.”

  “Color matter?”

  “Not to me.”

  Meaning it could matter to him? Hmm...

  His hand looked too big sifting through her delicate underthings. Did her bras match her panties? Somehow he didn’t think so, not unless it was a special occasion for her.

  Did she consider sex a special occasion?

  He’d like to find out. Don’t be an asshole.

  Deciding on hot pink with little yellow flowers, he turned and found her barely awake, her shoulders slumped, her head hanging. It wasn’t a look he’d ever expected to see on Sterling Parson.

  It bothered him. Too much. Somehow she’d already burrowed under his skin. When had that ever happened? Never.

  Kneeling in front of her, he said, “Here,” and helped to get the pretty panties over her feet and up to the knees she had pressed tightly together.

  Standing, her uninjured hand braced on his shoulder, she said, “Not a word.”

  His face was level with her stomach, his hands bracketed outside her knees, her hand warm on his shoulder. Scenarios winged through his mind, heating his blood, tensing his muscles.

  If she hadn’t been hurt, he would have leaned forward, pressed his face against her, breathed in her heated scent...

  One day soon, he’d be back in this position—once she’d fully recovered. Not being an asshole, remember?

  Steeling himself, Cade looked up at her face.

  Her gaze avoided his. “I mean it.”

  “I know.” Watching her expression kept him from looking at her body, at the warm, silky flesh teasing his fingers and wrists as he tugged the panties up, under her robe, and smoothed them onto her hips.

  It took a lot of iron control, but Cade stood. “Shirt?”

  “No, I’ve decided to keep the robe, but you can look at my back if you want.” Turning, she opened the belt and let the shoulder
s droop down.

  More bruises, of course. He hadn’t expected anything else, but at least these weren’t as bad as her leg. Lifting her thick mass of hair with one hand, he touched, lightly prodded, but she barely flinched. “I think the worst of it is your leg and that finger.”

  “My finger feels better already, but yeah, my leg is crazy stiff.”

  He had a hot tub at his place, but inviting her there would cause more problems than he wanted to deal with. That is, if she’d even accept, which he doubted.

  “How about we get you comfortable on the couch with an ice pack on your leg? I’ll tape your fingers, then get food together.”

  “Wow, this whole ‘being waited on’ thing is nice. I had no idea what I’ve been missing.”

  The sarcasm made it easier for her, Cade knew, so he didn’t reply as he helped her back to the living room.

  * * *

  MAYBE IF SHE’D had a different background, having Cade see so much of her under such crummy circumstances might have been more embarrassing. Truth? Her biggest issue wasn’t nudity. It was being dependent on him.

  That sucked rocks big-time, though she had to admit he made it easier than it could have been. He was so blasted matter-of-fact about it, like he did this sort of thing all the time.

  Did he? No, somehow she knew he wasn’t anyone’s toady. Nice that, for right now, he’d be hers. Besides all the pampering, the view was pretty sweet. And stirring.

  Yup, even though she felt like the walking dead, her hormones took notice of him. When he’d been on his knees? Downright fantasy inspiring.

  Sterling wondered if he could really cook. Probably, given he did everything else with ease. Maybe someday she’d find out for sure, but right now she didn’t have any basic ingredients for him to work with. Instead they dined on pizza rolls—fresh from freezer to microwave—with colas. It was the best she had since he’d discounted cold cereal and packaged cookies.

  She felt better being clean, her finger straightened and taped to the one next to it, her thigh, resting on pillows to elevate it, numb from the ice he kept rotating, and food in her belly. Not good—good was nowhere on the horizon—but definitely less annihilated.